


Serendipity

by Elfflame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hd_worldcup, M/M, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-22
Updated: 2008-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/pseuds/Elfflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco’s hiding and living away from the Wizarding World.  Harry wants to know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Into the West](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/3263) by Grey Hunter. 



> My first-ever slash-fic was a girl!Draco. But even without having written that fic, the idea would be near and dear to my heart. I knew when I wrote this story that the subject would be a tricky one at best to keep from upsetting others. I know some in fandom are squicked by the very idea. And then I know there are those to whom this might hit too close to home, and who might be offended if I mis-wrote the story. I cannot say for sure if I succeeded in what I was trying to accomplish, but I am pleased by the story in general. I'd like to think if I'd had more time to write it, I'd have been more thorough with the details and the editing overall.
> 
> The idea itself came from a fic called **Into the West** by Grey Hunter, which I read about the same time I was trying to come up with a bunny for the Cup. I already had the rudiments of a story--Draco goes missing after the end of the war, and Harry sets off to find him. It combined with the idea behind **Into the West** , and I simply couldn't resist. It was a far better reason for Draco to be hiding out than illness or dying. And the story took form from there.
> 
> I had a lot of help on the way--Ceria and Wolfish_cat both were of inestimable help in looking this over several times each. And then, of course, there was Team Ewe. As someone who is not a Snarry shipper, I'd never participated in a fest of this sort before, and had no idea what to think. I have to say, I loved interacting with all my teammates, and how much everyone worked to help everyone else get things done in time. I do think my fic is far better for the feedback it got from them, and I'm glad I had the opportunity to be on the team with all of them. In hopes of being slightly more brief I won't name particular names, but I'm glad they were all my teammates.
> 
> Also, if I could have during the fest, I would have dedicated this to Kabal, who knows why. And whose response to the fic was everything I'd hoped. Love you, hon.

Draco had grown used to avoiding people in the last few years. He’d avoided people sixth year so that he could fix that bloody cabinet, and in seventh, he'd hidden in his room at home, then later in his dorm at school as much as he could get away with, so that he could avoid the Dark Lord and his hangers-on. They had turned out to be far less exciting than he'd believed they would be when he’d heard about them as a boy, listening to his father's stories.

Since the end of the war, though, he'd avoided people all together, including his parents. As soon as he'd found this place, he'd known it would be a perfect hideaway. No one would ever believe that Draco Malfoy would live in the middle of the countryside, after all. Let alone associate himself with Muggles.

He was living in a simple cottage with a bedroom upstairs, a tiny bathroom (and hadn't that been a shock to his system?), a living room and kitchen downstairs. The house barely had more total space than his rooms at the Manor. But the important part was that there was no one here to bother him. Just a single house-elf that came to deliver things once a week or so, including letters that were returned to the Manor unopened.

He needed to deal with everything that had happened to him in the last two and a half years, and couldn't do that with friends and family hanging over him, asking him what he would do now. He had too much else to deal with. Reintegrating himself into society could come later. Right now, he just needed to relax. Away from the world. Away from everyone.

So how the hell it was that Harry Potter had managed to find him, he never knew. He'd been flipping through some Muggle magazine he'd picked up when he'd last gone to town for groceries when someone had tapped at the door. He'd got up to answer it, his hand going for the knob automatically when he thought to look to see who it was, and peeked through the curtains.

Draco's one thought before creeping away from the closed door and up the stairs was that he hoped it was just a random coincidence, and that Potter wasn't looking for _him_. Because once Potter stuck his nose in something, he never stopped until he knew everything about whatever it was he was butting into.

Even before he made it to the top of the staircase, he heard the door open. Why hadn't he spelled the bloody thing locked?

"Malfoy?"

Draco's heart sank. So much for the hope that Potter wasn't here for him. He hurried as quietly as he could into his bedroom, swearing under his breath when he heard Potter coming up the stairs.

"Malfoy? I saw you peek out the window. I know you're here."

Fuck. How the hell had he even known where to look? Draco ducked into the wardrobe, closing the door all but a crack, hoping that the clothes would hide him if Potter decided to look inside.

It was several more minutes before Potter came into view. He moved past the wardrobe door to Draco's bed, apparently attracted by something he'd seen there. When Draco realised what he'd seen, his heart stopped in his chest. He watched as Potter picked up and sniffed at the bottle kept on his bedside table so that he wouldn't forget to take it in the mornings. Potter had always been pants at Potions, so Draco wasn't too worried he would be able to tell what it was. Until he dabbed his finger at the edge of the bottle, and raised the finger to his mouth. Draco knew he had to stop him.

"Don't!"

Harry turned to him, looking up in surprise. "Malfoy? Where were you? Didn't you hear me calling you?"

Draco raised his chin. "Yes, I heard." He took the bottle from Potter's hands. "Apparently some people don't know when they're not wanted. Or know better than to try strange potions. You're a bloody idiot. What is it you want, anyway?" Draco turned away from him, stoppering the bottle and setting it back in place to try to seem as nonchalant as he could manage.

Potter's eyes went from the bottle, to Draco, then back to the bottle. "What is it?"

"None of your business." Draco turned back to him. "Just…say your piece and get out, Potter."

Obviously, Potter hadn't been expecting that, because he blinked. Though why the reaction should take him by surprise, Draco couldn't understand. After all, they'd never liked each other. "Well?" he asked after several minutes when Potter still hadn't responded.

"I…" He sighed, then reached into his jacket. Draco took a step back, relaxing only slightly when Potter held out his old wand, handle-end towards Draco. "I just wanted to give you back your wand. I didn't know I'd have to search half of England to find you."

"Yes, well…I hid here in hopes that no one _would_ find me," Draco said with a scowl. His eyes were fastened on the wand, but he didn't take it, even though his fingers itched to do so. "I don't know why you bothered. It won't work for me any longer…"

"You don't know that…" Potter said, but his answer was distracted at best. His gaze kept returning to the bottle. "What…"

Draco huffed. "I told you, Potter. It's none of your business." He pushed at his shoulder, ignoring the wand, and shoved him towards the door. "Now you've come and tried to give it to me, and you know I don't want it. So leave."

"No…wait…Malfoy…"

"No! This is my home. Maybe it's not the Manor, but it's mine. You have no rights here. Even if you are an Auror." Not that Draco knew for sure he was, but what else would the hero of the Wizarding World do for a living?

Potter pulled away, glaring at him. "Dammit, Malfoy! I'm just…you went missing months ago, and no one seemed to know where you were. Forgive me for being concerned when you're drinking some unknown concoction and hiding out in the middle of nowhere!"

"Since when have you _ever_ cared for my well-being, Potter? Hm?"

"Since I saved your life, Malfoy."

It wasn't the answer Draco had been expecting. "Excuse me?" he asked, his hands dropping from Potter's shoulder. "What are you talking about?" As far as he knew, wizarding debts didn't work that way. He was the one who owed Potter something, not the other way around.

"Just…something I heard once. And it's true. I always feel more responsible for someone after I've helped them. I mean, just look at Gin—"

"I don't want to hear you going on about your girlfriend, Potter. You've done your little good deed. I'm safe and fairly sane as I can be after what happened and I can assure you the potion isn't in any way harmful to me, all right? Now…get out."

Potter sighed. "Fine. But only because I didn't come here to fight." He moved to the stairs, then turned around before Draco could follow to make sure he truly left instead of hanging around downstairs. "But…if you realise you need something…you're welcome to owl. I mean that."

"Like I'd ever ask you for anything, Potter. Now get out."

Potter seemed to want to say more, but in the end, he sagged a bit and nodded. "See you around, Malfoy," he said.

"Not if I can help it," Draco muttered as he closed and spelled the door locked behind him.

For two weeks, Draco believed he'd managed to get rid of Potter, but then, just as he was getting ready to go into town one morning, there was another knock at the door. Having learned his lesson once, Draco was more cautious this time, peeking through a curtain carefully before going anywhere near the door. Upon seeing Potter, he scowled.

He didn't avoid him this time, though. He was already feeling grouchy that day, and who better to take his temper out on then Potter, the world’s most annoying git? He opened the door and glowered out at him. "I thought I told you I didn't want the bloody stick, Potter. Go find some poor Weasley to give it to instead."

"You made it perfectly clear, Malfoy. But I still said I'd come back. Have something for you." He held out a letter, and Draco scowled.

"Who is it from?"

"Your mother."

At that, the scowl deepened. "I don't want it. Take it back to her, and tell her I'll contact her when I'm ready, and not before."

"I can't. I promised her."

"And since when has a promise to a Malfoy made any difference to you, Potter?"

"Since she saved my life."

Great. Another reason for Potter to torment him. "Well, I don't want it. Tell her you missed me."

"I told her I'd leave it if you weren't in."

Draco sighed. "Fine. Tell her I burned it."

"No. I'm not lying to her, Malfoy. Now take it." He shoved the letter at Draco again, and Draco growled.

"Fine." He snatched the letter, then scrawled a note on the back of the envelope.

>   
> _Mother,_
> 
>  _Stop sending them. I'm not changing my mind, no matter how many you send. So just leave it alone._
> 
>  _\- Draco_

Then he shoved the note back at Potter. "There. Now tell her to lay off, or the next will come back in pieces."

Potter looked shocked at that, then, without glancing at the note Draco had written, he shoved the letter in his pocket. "All right. Fine. I just wanted to come by and see if you'd changed your mind about your wand."

"I haven't."

The silence stretched out for a moment, then Potter sighed. "So…did you think of anything I could help with, Malfoy?"

"You mean, aside from the privacy you keep depriving me of? I can't think of a thing. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some errands to run." He picked up the shopping bag he always took with him, carefully charmed to make any load light and easy, then shoved at Potter's shoulder to make him step back, closing and locking the door behind him. When he turned around, though, Potter was still there. "I don't know how many more ways I can tell you to bugger off, Potter…"

"Maybe because you keep missing _my_ point, Malfoy. I'm not going to 'bugger off.' So you'll just have to deal with it. And maybe I can help while you're in town. You never know what sort of help you might need until you don't have it. Especially when you're without a wand."

Draco wasn't about to tell him about the extra wand his father had given him. It wasn't his own, but it was something, and would likely work a good bit better than his old one. At least until he could go find a new wandmaker—he doubted Ollivander would ever sell to his family again. Instead, he decided to see if he could push to get Potter to go away on his own. "What? Worried that I'll give the poor Muggles a hard time, Potty?"

Potter's face darkened a bit in anger, but he quickly shrugged it off. Too easily for Draco's taste. "No. Not without your wand, anyway." Draco wanted him to smirk so he could punch him in the face for the reference, but he said it as though he were saying the sky was blue, so Draco swallowed his anger. "I just want to show you that I can be a help. Is that really so hard for you to understand, Malfoy?"

"Frankly? Yes. We've hated each other since day one. I see no need to change things now." He brushed past Harry and started down the walk to the lane.

Potter followed. "Well, I do. I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree," he said lightly.

As if Potter hadn't been annoying enough before. "Get stuffed, Potter," Draco said, trying to echo Potter's light tone. He wasn't sure he'd quite pulled it off, though.

It took far too long to reach the village for Draco's taste. Not because he was tired of walking, but because Potter kept up a constant stream of inanities the entire way. He was sure it would be considered justifiable homicide, or at the very least, worth Azkaban, just to get rid of his incessant babbling.

The shop was quiet, and Draco managed to get most of the things he needed, even with Potter's "help." There were even a few ingredients he'd learned he could get from the Muggles that he needed for his potion. It was time to make it again. If he didn't, he'd only have enough to last the week. And given that most of it looked like cooking ingredients, Potter seemed none the wiser.

Everything was packed in the bag, then Draco turned to glower at Potter. "There. All done. _Now_ will you leave me alone?"

"As soon as I've walked you back. Promise."

Draco huffed, then led the way back towards his cottage. If it would get rid of Potter…

Unfortunately, along the way, they ran into the nosiest busybody in the village, Mrs. Mockeridge. She was a kind enough lady, but always had to know _everything_ about everyone. Within the first ten minutes of meeting Draco, she'd managed to get his parent's names, his age, and a bit more of his own history than he was comfortable letting _any_ Muggle know.

She also seemed to think it was her sworn duty to marry off everyone who lived in the village, which meant that every time she saw him, she had a new girl she wanted to introduce him to, or asked about any prospects he might have. There was no way in hell he was going to tell her any of his objections to marriage. And he certainly wasn't getting married any time in the near future. Or even consider dating someone he might want to marry. Not now. Maybe not ever.

"Mister Malfoy! It's so good to see you. And how are you this lovely day?"

The woman was obviously impervious to his glares. It had taken him a while to work up to them, though. He’d been worried he might offend her, she might be just a Muggle, but he still had to live here, and someone like her could make his life even more of a hell if she wanted to. "Busy."

She seemed to take this as a fond greeting, as she beamed at him, then glanced at Potter. "And who is your friend?" She gave him a grin. "Is that why you keep refusing help finding a girl? You don't want one?"

Draco felt his cheeks heat. "No, that is _not_ why," he growled.

Unfortunately, Potter seemed to find this idea quite amusing, and draped his arm around Draco's shoulders. "Now, now, dear, don't go denying me again…"

That was the last straw. His temper, which had been frayed even before Potter had shown, now snapped. Draco whirled on him, growling. "I wouldn't touch you if we had to boost each other out of a pit of poisonous vipers!" That said, he stormed down the road. Later, he couldn't even remember opening his door, or locking it behind him, only the pitiful knock that came a short while after, and the apologetic note he'd viciously burned in the fireplace, gleefully watching the corners curl in the flames.

By the next week, though, he was regretting his over-reaction. He'd gone to his usual apothecary to get the supplies for his potion, only to be told that they were entirely out of one of the most important ingredient. He had one dose left, and after that… If he didn't take another after twenty-four hours, everything would have been for nothing. It was so frustrating, and Draco had to fight the emotions that rose in him, hating how weak all this made him. There was only one thing he could do. He didn't much like the idea, but he had few other options. At least Potter knew about the potion. Hopefully he wouldn't think this an excuse to ask more questions.

Potter appeared on his doorstep only two hours after Draco had sent the owl. But it had felt like forever. He opened the door, not even bothering to greet him as he waved him inside, then closed it once more.

"What kinds of access do you have to potions ingredients, Potter?" he asked without preamble.

His eyebrow rose a few centimeters. "Potions ingredients?"

"You heard me," Draco said with a huff.

"I'm not getting you anything illegal, Malfoy…"

"It's not illegal. Just…a bit rare."

"Rare? As in hard to get, or as in controlled?"

"It's not non-tradable, if that's what you're asking," Draco said shortly, wishing that Severus were still alive for the thousandth time since the final battle. He'd have had some on hand.

Potter stared at him for a few moments. "What is it, then?"

This was the hard part. While Draco knew Potter had never done well in potions, the same couldn't be said of Granger, and the second Potter left, he'd likely go straight to her. "You can't tell anyone." Potter opened his mouth, but Draco forestalled him. "I'm not asking you to break any laws. I just meant not your…friends." He couldn’t specify Granger. That would be too obvious. Hopefully Potter would agree. At least he was the sort not to break his word once he’d promised.

After a moment of thought, Potter nodded. "Fine. So what is it?"

"Unicorn horn."

"Unicorn horn? Are you mad? Those are…"

"Rare, I know."

"Try impossible to get! If I start asking around…"

Draco panicked, feeling his throat tighten. If anyone were to hear…what if they put two and two together? "Please, Potter…you don't understand. If I don't get it…I only have enough potion to last me through tomorrow."

Potter sighed. "Fine. I do this, you stop running away, and you sure as hell stop calling me Potter."

"It's your name…"

"No, Harry's my name. Potter's…well, you make it sound like the bits of a bug left over after you squash it. Just…try?"

"Bring me a unicorn horn, and I will. If you can find it powdered… It's not vital, but it would help." It would take less time to prepare it, at least.

"I'll see what I can do." And without another word, he left.

After that, all Draco could do was wait. Potter knew how badly he needed it. And how fast. Draco had never been too good at waiting, though, and before an hour was up, he was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, each sound outside making him start, the warring emotions inside him making it harder and harder to stay calm.

When Potter finally did appear three hours later, Draco was so wound up, he nearly fell over backwards at the pop of apparition. Still, he kept himself steady as he whirled to see who it was. "Did you get it?" he asked.

Potter held out a long, slender package. "Sorry, it's whole."

"That's all right. I'll just need to grind it. And…" His mind was hurriedly going through all the steps he needed to take to finish the potion.

"Let me help?"

The offer surprised him. "Um…sure. Have you ever ground unicorn horn before?"

Potter shook his head. "No, but…I can't imagine it's that hard. Is it?"

Draco closed his eyes, exasperated. "It's part of a magical healing creature, Potter, what do you think?"

"Harry."

Draco blinked at him. "What?"

"You said, if I brought it, you'd call me by my name."

Shaking his head, Draco led the way to the kitchen. "Fine. Harry. I'll show you what you have to do, and you can work on that while I finish the base. There's a bit of chopping I have to do for the rest, but…between the two of us, we should have it finished by morning." Which would leave just enough time for it to cool properly before he had to take it the following day. Draco wasn't going to think about what would happen if they didn't manage.

They were silent while they worked, and once Potter was finished with the horn, Draco took it gratefully, then put him to work shredding chameleon root while he began to stir in the horn. It was dawn before they finished, and Draco left it to cool on the stove as he walked with Potter to the front door.

It was an awkward moment. In the seven and a half years they'd known each other, Draco couldn't recall a moment where they'd managed to get on so well for so long. The closest he could think of was when they'd been paired off to search the forest in first year, and that had been full of each of them snarking at the other. There had been nothing like that now. He wasn't sure what to say, so he went with the simplest, most automatic response. "Thank you."

Potter shrugged. "I wanted to help. Will that be enough?"

"For another month." Draco still didn't want to discuss this, least of all with Potter. But he could hardly refuse to answer that question.

"Good. So…does this mean you'll accept my help now?" Potter looked a bit belligerent, obviously assuming he was about to get another refusal, but after his help, Draco could hardly say no, could he?

"Yeah. Doesn't make us friends, though." That part had to be made clear.

"No, I suppose not. I'd like to try, though."

Well, wasn't that a surprise? "Oh? Why now?"

"The same reasons I want to help you, Draco. Whether or not you like it, we're connected. It would be a bit easier if we were friends, don't you think?"

Draco turned away. "You're the one who thought we couldn't be before, Potter. What made the difference?"

"Everyone has to grow up sometime, Draco. And stop calling me that."

"It's your name. And I'm comfortable with it."

"I thought we had an agreement, Draco. You said you'd call me Harry if I got the horn, Draco, and I did."

Scowling, Draco turned back to look at him. "Why do you care? You hate me. Always have. I don't feel like being your 'project.' Just…leave."

"No." Draco was about to argue with him when Potter shook his head. "I just mean…I want to come back. Try again. Granted, we weren't friends in school and we both had good reason. But surely I’ve earned one chance?"

Maybe if he let Potter spend time with him, he'd get annoyed or bored enough that he'd leave on his own. "Fine. But don't expect me to be all excited about it."

The smile Potter shot him made him wonder if perhaps he'd misheard. "That's all I ask, Draco. I'll see you this weekend, then?"

Draco nodded, trying to hold back a sneer. He'd done worse things in his life. Surely an hour or two with Potter wouldn't be that bad?

Potter Apparated away, still grinning, and Draco made his way up to bed. He didn't manage to get to sleep until well after mid-day, though.

Nor was he able to quite forget that he was going to have a visitor that weekend. Why knowing he was going to see Potter was disrupting his life, Draco couldn't have said, but it was. Maybe it was just that he knew it wouldn't end well, and that he'd have to deal with picking himself up again after letting himself lean on someone else. He couldn't allow that to happen.

By Saturday morning, he'd promised himself it wouldn't. That he wouldn't let Potter get past his defenses. They'd do whatever it was Potter wanted to do to "spend time together," and then he'd send him on home, and hopefully that would be all it would take to discourage Potter from trying it again. He knew it was unlikely. Potter was nothing if not tenacious. But it was the only way he could even convince himself to open the door when the knock finally came. Just once. He could do it once.

Whatever he'd been expecting when he opened the door, though, it hadn't been Potter wearing a huge grin and carrying a picnic basket. "Ready to go?"

"Go? Go where?"

"I thought we could have a picnic. It's a gorgeous day."

"Potter, in case you haven't looked, all the fields around here are sheep fields. You surely aren't suggesting…"

"They're just sheep, Draco. They don't attack. And it's Harry."

Draco huffed. "Harry, then. I don't have any trousers I'm willing to get dirty by sitting in a field where sheep have been doing god knows what."

"You don't have any jeans?"

"Have you ever _seen_ me in jeans, Potter?" Draco asked, annoyed.

"Harry. And…I guess I never thought about it. I suppose we could transfigure you some…"

"No, thank you. I don’t feel like losing a good pair of trousers that way." Draco sighed. "Just how long will you be expecting me to sit in this sheep field?"

Potter shrugged. "Lunch. And some time talking. A couple of hours?"

"Do you have a blanket, at least?" If he was going to be ruining his trousers by tramping around in farmer's fields, he at least wanted something slightly clean to sit on while he ate.

"Yep. Folded up in the basket. So…you'll come, then?"

"I suppose. Just…don't expect me to get excited about it, all right?"

Potter hid a grin. "Of course not, Draco."

Draco stepped out and locked the door behind him, then let Potter lead the way. Apparently he'd taken time to scout out a few locations, and they were soon settled under an ancient oak tree, the blanket laid out under them, and the basket's contents spread out across the blanket between them so they could eat. Potter talked as they ate, though Draco only answered with short, simple sentences. Potter didn’t seem to notice his reticence.

Still, he found himself rather surprised by some of the things Potter told him. Like what he'd been doing that last year of their schooling. He'd assumed Potter had been sheltered by Dumbledore's little group for much of it. He couldn't help finding himself interested in Potter’s descriptions of what they'd had to go through to find the last few Horcruxes. And how they'd only been caught because of his own stupid insistence of using Voldemort's name.

It had been a defining moment for Draco as well, though he didn't mention that to Potter. It was the moment he'd realised that giving Potter up would gain him and his family nothing—at least, not with Bella and Fenrir there. So he'd pretended not to recognize him. Though he had—even through the stinging hex he'd taken just before his capture.

"You're all lucky they didn't kill you on the spot. Likely because of Granger and Weasley. If it had been just you, and they hadn't had reason to think you were the Boy Who Lived…"

"Yeah, I know. Still don't get why you kept quiet that day. You'd have risen for being the one to confirm who I was, wouldn't you?"

Discomfited by the fact that Potter'd lit on the subject he'd just been thinking about, Draco looked away. "No. Aunt Bella would have got all the credit. We were…too far out of favour by then. It wouldn't have made a difference for us," he answered softly.

Instead of offering platitudes, Potter nodded, looking down as well. "Guess not. Thanks anyway."

For some reason, that made Draco smile. "No problem, Potter."

"You know, if you don't stop calling me that, I'm going to have to retaliate," Potter said, but the smile on his face kept Draco from taking offense.

"Oh? And how would you do that?"

"Ask you about that potion of yours."

Draco stiffened. "Potter…"

"Harry."

Throat tightening, Draco nodded stiffly, trying to keep the rising swell of emotion from showing. "Harry," he managed to force out. "It's…not something I feel comfortable discussing, all right?"

Potter seemed to consider that for a long moment, then nodded. "All right. I just…worry, okay? I mean…it seems so serious, Draco…"

"It is. And that's all you need to know."

It looked like Potter was debating with himself, but finally he nodded. "All right."

They were both silent for a few minutes, and Draco was sure his insistence on not talking about it had killed the afternoon, but then Potter glanced up. "Hey."

"What?" He followed Potter's gaze, not sure what he was looking at.

"That bird. Is that…a Snidget?"

Draco snorted, focusing on the only bird he saw in the area. "It's a sparrow, Potter. Snidgets are only found in magical areas. Not to mention that they look nothing alike…" But Potter was climbing to his feet.

"No…I think it is…"

Uncertain if Potter was putting him on to try and distract them both, or if he really was sure, Draco sat up. "I'm quite certain it's not, Potter."

"Harry," Potter threw back at him, even as he moved carefully towards the bird where it was resting on a nearby rock.

Watching as Potter moved forward to catch the bird, all Draco could do was snort and shake his head. He was rather surprised when Potter managed to actually catch it.

"Wow." He got to his feet. "I thought… But look…it's the wrong colour. I told you."

Potter was nodding. "Yeah, I know. Just…it puffed up for a bit there, and…" He shrugged, then let it go. "It was stupid, I suppose."

It was Draco's turn to shrug then. "Not if you thought it was." His eyes tracked the bird, which had landed on the fencepost not far away and was now eyeing them warily. "Stupid bird. You let it go, and it didn't even bother escaping…"

Potter grinned. "We could make a game of it. See which of us can catch it more times…"

Draco grinned back. Now there was an idea he could get behind. "You're on, Potter."

"That's minus ten points for using that name," Potter said, his grin widening as he moved towards the bird once more.

"Oi! That's not fair. And you caught it last time." He moved towards the bird as well, and it ruffled its wings nervously as it watched them advance slowly.

"Stop calling me that, then," Potter said with a grin. "And no one said we'd be taking turns. So, I'm twenty points ahead, then?" he asked, his grin widening.

"Fine. But you're still going to lose." Draco dove towards the fencepost, the bird fluttering away just as he tried to close his fingers around it. "Damn!"

When he turned around, Potter was doubled over, snorting. "Oh, very funny. I'll get it next time," he said, raising his chin.

"You'll have to find it first, Draco…" Potter said, still wiping his eyes.

Looking around, Draco realised the bird was nowhere to be seen. "Fine. So then what? I mean…you have to give me the chance to win back points, right?"

"I don't know…"

"Oh, come on. What about a race? We could race to that far fence post and back here. What do you think?" Draco was pretty sure he was faster on foot than Potter. That would be an easy win.

"Oh, all right. I suppose if I want you to consider me a friend, I have to give you the opportunity…"

Draco grinned. "Of course, Harry." He used the name pointedly to show just how much more friendly it might make him.

"All right, then. Ten there, and ten back? And if you lose either, you concede?"

"I won't lose," Draco answered with a grin.

"We'll see about that. Count of three, then?"

Draco nodded, poised to run the second Potter said three, and soon the two were running across the field, and Draco couldn't recall when he'd started laughing, but damn, it felt good to just be outside, free, with no immediate worries. He made it to the far fencepost first, grinning at Potter as he reached Draco’s side, then raised an eyebrow at him. "Concede?"

Potter snorted. "As if, Mal—er…Draco. I'm still ten points ahead of you. I can still win."

"We'll see about that." Draco didn't even wait for Potter to count this time, laughing at his enraged shouts as he left him in the dust.

He was only a few feet from the first post, and sure of his victory, when he tripped over something that left him sprawled in the grass. It would have been fine, except for the sudden loosening around his chest. Fuck. He tried to hide it, but Potter was close behind, and kneeling to check on him before he could stop him. "Go away."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Draco growled, shoving at Potter. "Just…" He gasped as he felt things loosen more, and hunched forward to try to hide it.

"Draco…what's wrong?" Potter's hand fell on his shoulder, and Draco twisted away.

"Let go of me!" He tried to stagger to his feet, but it was hard with his arms wrapped around his chest like that, and he stumbled forward, only to be caught by Potter, Draco’s eyes going wide even as he hoped that Potter hadn't noticed.

But he had. "Draco…what…?" Potter was staring at his chest, and Draco squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what would come next. "Do you have…breasts?"

Draco felt his cheeks flame, and gave up all pretense of trying to hide them. He pulled away, then glowered at him. "Fuck off, Potter." Then he Apparated back to the cottage. Now Potter would tell everyone, and he'd be the laughingstock of the wizarding world. His life was officially over.

By the time he'd straightened and fastened his bindings so that he didn't have to see them any more, Potter was knocking at the door. Draco tried to ignore it, then realised that Potter had never been one to give up easily. Especially when ten minutes had passed, and he was still knocking. Draco pulled open the door with a growl. "What? Don't have enough on me yet?"

Potter drew back, looking hurt. "I just came to make sure you were okay, Draco."

"I'm just fine, Potter. Now…go tell your cronies about what a freak I am, and leave me alone." He tried to shut the door but Potter put his foot across the jamb to keep him from closing it all the way.

"No. Look…first, I wouldn't tell anyone. Second, if you'll notice…I'm not laughing, Draco. I'm worried about you. Is this…a hex? It's why you're taking the potion, isn't it?"

It was hard for Draco to answer that. Not because Potter was wrong, but because he hadn't discussed this with anyone since leaving the Manor. He hadn't wanted to. He'd just wanted to get it over with. “I don’t want to talk about it, Potter,” he said firmly. He just wanted Potter to go away, so that he could go back to pretending it wasn’t real, that he was still every bit the boy he’d always thought he was.

“Draco…maybe I can help. Please…”

“You can’t help me, Potter!” he hissed, horrified to hear the hysterical note to his voice, and closing his eyes as he realized his voice rose to the feminine note he hated so much. Better to do this inside. At least then, no one else would find out. He opened the door with a scowl, and waved Harry in. "Come in. I’d rather not discuss this where anyone else can hear it."

Potter nodded, looking a bit too relieved for Draco’s taste. He moved towards the centre of the room, his body-language showing just how conscious he was that he was unwelcome here. Draco closed the door, warding it with a few spells before turning back to him. "Sit."

Nodding again, Potter moved to the couch, his eyes on Draco now. "Is this something that happened during the war?"

"Not…exactly." Swallowing, Draco sighed, then finally met Potter's eyes. He looked worried, which surprised Draco a little, and helped him relax enough to try to explain. "My family…is under a curse. Have been for generations."

Potter's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything, for which Draco was grateful. "A few centuries back, one of my ancestors upset someone. They cast a curse on him so that each generation after only one child would be born to his line."

Potter frowned. "That seems like a pretty simple curse…"

"Simple, but effective. The first time any of his descendants had a girl, our name would have died out with her."

"Oh…yeah. But…" Potter's frown intensified. "So…what did they do? To prevent that, then, I mean."

"He created a spell. Took most of the rest of his life to research it, but he managed. Cast on a girl shortly after her birth, it…turns her into a boy." He watched Potter warily for his reaction to that.

"But…" He could see the moment when Potter got it, his eyes going round at the realization. "You…"

"I was…born female. Father's been casting the spell on me once a year since I was born. But he hasn't exactly been able to these last few years, now, has he?"

“Why didn’t your mother, then?”

“It has to be cast on the recipient by one of our line. Meaning father.”

“And if he’d died? I mean…surely you don’t expect him to outlive you…”

Draco winced, looking down and away from Potter as he spoke, his cheeks flaming now. “Usually by the time the father dies, there is…an heir…who can do the casting. Though some have…chosen to revert back after they’ve had their heir.”

There was a long stretch of silence between them before Potter spoke again. "So the potion will—get you back to what you were before?"

"The potion is…newer than the spell. I have to take it for a year, but once I've finished, I won't have to deal with any of it again."

"Meaning you won't have to have the spell any longer?"

Draco shook his head. "I…never knew what it was father was casting on me each year. I just thought it was some sort of…protective blessing."

"You didn't even know?" Potter sounded horrified by that, and it was almost enough to make Draco smile.

"No. I had no clue until I woke up one morning after the war with…these." He made a face, glancing down at his chest, then back at Potter, feeling his cheeks flame. "I wasn't pleased, let me tell you…" He remembered the mood swings that had started in sixth year, but he’d written them off as stress, then. Now, it seemed obvious to him what they were, even if the idea made him wince.

"I can imagine. If that had happened to me…" Potter made a face. "What did you do?"

"Went to my father." Draco scowled to remember it. How calm Lucius had been in his explanation. As though it were no bigger thing than having a cold. "He said that there was nothing he could do. That he had no wand to cast the spell, and that now that I'd 'reverted,' even that wouldn't work any longer…" Draco remembered his fury at the words. That he was stuck in this body now.

"What did you do?"

"I went through all the magical resources we had at the Manor. Until I found this potion." It was his only chance, now. The thought was terrifying.

Potter was quiet for a moment, then asked, "So…if you hadn't found a horn, you'd have to start all over?"

Draco shook his head. "I only get one shot. Now that I’ve started, if…I miss any dose…that's it. I'd be stuck like this. But it's not going to happen."

"No. It won't." Potter smiled. "Because now I know, and I can help you find more ingredients if you need them. "I won't let it happen, Draco. Not if that’s what you want."

“Of course it is.” Draco blinked, startled at the offer. Even with Potter's insistence before that he wanted to help, it was still unexpected. "Thank you. Really. The only people who know are…my parents." And they each had their own opinions on what should happen.

"Is that what your mother was writing about?" Potter asked softly.

"She…always wanted a daughter. When she found out that the spell wasn't working any longer…" He scowled. "She doesn't want me to fix it."

"I'm sorry. And your father?"

Draco stuck out his chin. "I don't care." Maybe once the potion took effect, that might change, but for now… He was still too angry that Lucius hadn’t told him. And worse, that the man seemed to have no inclination to try to help him. "I haven't spoken to him since that morning for not telling me sooner."

"Can't really blame you for that."

They were both silent for a few minutes before Potter spoke again. "Have you ever thought about trying to break the curse?"

Draco shrugged. "Wouldn't make a difference for me. I'd still have this problem."

"But your children wouldn't."

"And what is it that you suggest I do, hm?"

Potter made a face. "I don't know, really. Just…your family has gone so long avoiding the issue. Maybe you'd have never had to deal with this if they'd worked to break it instead?"

Draco hadn't thought of it quite like that before. "Maybe. But that won't help me now anyway. So it will have to wait until I'm cured."

"I suppose. Just…I'd imagine that's been true for everyone in your family, Draco. Maybe you should take the time?"

Draco stood. "There will be plenty of time after." Whether or not it worked, that would be true.

"Well, whatever happens, you'll have my help, okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you." It was overwhelming, because he'd not thought he would be able to trust anyone with this, but here was Potter—no, Harry, he deserved that familiarity now—offering again, even though he knew all the details. And how easy was it to think of him that way, now that he knew? "It means a lot to me, Harry."

Harry smiled back. "I'm just glad I can help, Draco."

They got along better after that. Harry came by frequently, and Draco discovered he'd missed having someone to talk to. It was nice, having Harry's visits to look forward to, and having someone who could help him with the potion, when it was time to make it again. Draco didn't even feel time dragging any more. It gave him hope that maybe, someday, this would really be over, and his life could actually get back to normal.

Of course, he still had to deal with his body, though he sill did his best to avoid thinking about it on a daily basis. Showers had been a hassle from day one, trying to avoid the feel of certain body parts as he washed them, hiding them away under layers of clothes as soon as he could. Nights were worse, wishing he could find some way to take his mind off his problems, when before, his major way of doing that had been to wank. There was no way he could do that now, of course. Not with unfamiliar body parts and the fact that none of it felt _right_ , no matter what he tried.

Then, of course, there were the mood swings. Moments when nothing seemed to go right, and he couldn’t quite keep the tears away. He fought them best he could, of course, but they always came back. And worst of all was the monthly bleeding. He hated that more than anything else. The fact that his body seemed quite willing and ready to do something he’d never wanted it to do in the first place, despite the fact that it had been unable to do at any time throughout his teenage years.

Still, the secure feeling of having someone to confide in helped, and that continued into the summer, with Harry helping Draco put together a garden for some of the items he needed in his potion. It meant less worry about whether certain things would even be available when time came. He was puttering around the garden and clipping a few things late one morning when Harry stopped by for a visit.

"Draco?"

"In the back." He smiled at Harry when he came into view. "No work today?"

"Decided to take a mental health day," Harry responded, smiling back.

"Well, I don't have a lot for lunch. Maybe we should take a walk down to the village?"

"And chance running into Mrs Mockeridge again? Remember last time? She actually winked at me."

Draco flushed. "Well…we'll just have to do our best to avoid her, that's all."

"Right," Harry said, but Draco could tell he was hiding a grin.

"I just need to finish these clippings. I'm practicing with drying, since I'll need them through November, so…"

"Which ones? I can help."

Draco pointed out a few bushes, and they made short work of the task, then put them on the counter in the kitchen for when Draco returned. Then they made their way down to the village, and to the sole pub there. Draco made a mental note to himself to stop by the grocers soon, but it was nice to have a change of scenery for now.

As they were walking back to his cottage, sure enough, Draco saw Mrs Mockeridge down the road. She hadn't noticed them yet, so he pushed Harry down a side-street so they could avoid her.

"Draco…what?" Harry saw her, then chuckled and shook his head. "Can't be that bad, can it?"

"She's a menace,” Draco muttered, pulling Harry out of the immediate view of the main road. "She never lets up. If she saw us together again…" He looked up at Harry and swallowed.

The way Harry was looking at him made his pulse race. "I don't know. Wouldn't be that bad, would it? We're friends now, aren't we?" But his voice was soft, as though he were asking more and Draco couldn’t seem to pull away.

"Har—" Before he could ask what was going on, Harry's lips were on his, and hands in the small of his back. It made Draco's breath catch in the back of his throat, and for a moment, he leaned into the kiss.

If he were truly honest with himself, he couldn’t say the thought had never occurred to him. But he’d felt so…asexual this way. The idea of being touched had just felt wrong. So he hadn’t done anything. Now, with Harry kissing him, he wondered how he’d even managed.

Then Harry pulled him closer, and Draco felt his reaction through their clothes. A reaction he wasn’t going to be able to have. Harry seemed to have no problem with that, though, and Draco’s thoughts began to move in a different direction. Maybe Harry wasn’t having a problem with kissing him because he thought he was kissing _her_? The thought made Draco scowl. He couldn’t help but remember Harry asking whether Draco had thought about breaking the curse. Was this what he had meant? Staying a girl? Well, if that was what he thought, he had another thing coming.

He pulled away, pushing at Harry with a vehemence he hadn't used since Harry'd found out about the potion. "Bastard!”

He was blinking at him, now. "Draco…what?"

"I'm _not_ a girl, Potter!" he hissed.

The shocked expression only grew more confused. "I didn't…"

"Don't bother," Draco growled again, then Apparated back to the cottage before Harry could answer again. This time, he warded the house, and ignored Harry's knocking, despite the fact that it continued for a good long time. Owls began arriving the next day, but Draco ignored those as well, sending each letter back to the recipient. Let Potter suffer. He didn't deserve forgiveness.

Unfortunately, Draco quickly learned that Harry wasn't the only one who would suffer. He'd grown used to having Harry drop by, and spending hours talking with him, eating, walking… Suddenly, all he could recall was the past few months spent with Harry. As though nothing else had existed before it.

And worse, he found himself re-examining every moment, wondering just which was the one where Harry's feelings had changed. Or had they changed before he'd first sought Draco out? But then why wait until he'd known Draco was a girl? It was a never-ending circle of thought that seemed as though it would drive him crazy.

He sought to distract himself by working in his garden, and occasionally hiding out when Harry came by to see if he'd been forgiven yet. As far as Draco was concerned, he never would.

Each month, a new package of ground unicorn horn appeared at the door, and Draco tried to convince himself it meant nothing, even as he sprinkled the powder into his potion. By November, he almost believed it.

The transition back began so slowly, at first he didn’t even notice, until he was washing one morning, early in November, and realized that there was more between his legs than there had been before. It wasn’t back to normal yet, but just knowing that it was working helped improve his mood a great deal. Finally, he could see the end approaching. All this would just be a bad dream soon.

He was so excited, he’d hurried back to his room, dressed, then run down to write to Potter, only remembering when he’d picked up a quill how angry he was at the prat.

Once the changes were finished, sometime around mid-December, Draco returned home to the Manor. His parents welcomed him home easily enough, though his relationship with them was still strained—each for their own reasons, of course.

The Holiday season was in full swing, but Draco did his best to avoid large crowds, preferring to re-meet his friends one or two at a time, and insisting on avoiding all the Christmas parties he’d been invited to. He’d grown used to being alone more often than not, and it was hard to face so many with the memories of what he’d been through in the past year still fresh in his mind. Still, Draco found it far easier to forget Potter now that he had others to distract him.

That was, until he was invited to Miles Bletchley's engagement party. He'd decided to go alone. After all, it was his first time out in public since his disappearance. He wouldn't normally have attended, as he and Bletchley didn’t usually run in the same crowd, but it had been the best way he could think of to get all the reactions over with at once. Besides, he had a reputation to maintain, after all.

He found himself regretting it almost immediately. How he'd missed the fact that Bletchley's bride-to-be, Alicia, was a Gryffindor, he didn't know. Worse, she seemed to have invited the entire Gryffindor Quidditch Team since she’d been a member of said team while in school. And, of course, Harry had been included.

By the time Draco realised this, it was too late to leave. So he'd brazened it out, hoping that Harry would leave him in peace. It seemed to work for a few hours. Until Draco took a breather from dancing, and went out the balcony to cool off a bit. Harry was there, almost as if he'd been waiting for Draco.

"Looks like you're having a good time tonight," he murmured. "Zabini a good kisser?" The tone of the question was mild, but it still brought a flush to Draco's cheeks from the memory of snogging in a corner with the other man earlier that night. Blaise had caught him by surprise, but by that time, he’d been a little tipsy, and had needed that feeling of being wanted to comfort him, his ego a bit bruised that Harry hadn’t tried to approach him at all, even if all Draco would have done was push him away again. He hadn’t considered anyone might be watching. Least of all Harry. It had been a good kiss, but nothing special. Not that he was ready to say that to Harry, of course.

"What does it matter to you, Potter?" Draco hesitated beside the door. Maybe he'd be better off inside? But then, he didn't want Harry to guess just how much he'd affected him. He moved to the far side of the balcony, hoping he'd leave it at that.

He didn't. "Well…you didn't seem to like it when I did it, so I figured it must have been how, since you don't seem to have an issue with kissing _other_ men…" There was a slight bitterness to the words, and Draco had to swallow a few times before he could answer.

"I had a problem with the fact that you wanted me for the wrong reason," he said in a low voice. "You seemed to be under the illusion that I was a girl." He didn't have to turn to know that Harry was standing behind him. He tried to convince himself it didn't matter.

"Fucking hell, Draco. You didn't even give me a chance to explain!"

Draco turned to glare at him. "Explain what, Potter? That maybe I didn't have to change back? That you'd 'love me just the way I was?'" He'd forgot about the crowd inside, or that he'd wanted to keep it secret, or anything but his anger with Harry. "Tell me what you would have explained!"

"That I wanted you, you…git! Spell or not! I wanted Draco Malfoy to want me. Was that so hard to believe?"

"Yes! When had you ever shown an interest before?"

"Sixth year!"

"Sixth year…” Draco stared at him, trying to realise what he meant. And when he did, his anger increased. “Sixth year you tried to kill me!"

"I tried to talk to you! You…cast the Cruciatus Curse at me! I was just defending myself."

"It proves nothing. You never wanted me." They were both shaking now. Draco wasn't even sure what it was he wanted. But apparently Harry knew what _he_ wanted. He grabbed Draco by the shoulders, then pulled him in for a kiss. They both groaned at the contact, and Draco found his fingers digging into Harry's arms, pulling him closer, moaning into his mouth, all pretense of running gone.

Harry was pressing him up against the railing, and when he began to grind their cocks together, Draco seemed to wake from a daze. "What are you…?"

Those green eyes were still glaring. "Proving it to you." Then Harry's lips crashed against his, and one hand had dropped to the fastenings of Draco's trousers. Once they were open, he slid his hand inside, curled his fingers tightly around his cock and began to stroke him. At that point, Draco found that he really couldn't care what they'd been arguing about, so long as Harry didn't stop.

He tried to repay the favour, but he couldn't seem to get his fingers to unlatch from Harry's arm, and before he knew it, he was arching against him, shuddering as Harry pulled his climax from him. It took him a few moments to regain himself before he realised that Harry had as well, the bulge he'd been grinding against softening even as they stood, pressed together. There was a stiffness in his shoulders that made Draco afraid to pull back, but finally he did, only to find tears glittering in Harry's eyes.

"Harry?" There was a catch in his voice that he wished he'd been able to prevent, but it was too late now.

"I hate you," Harry whispered. "All I wanted was to be your friend, but…can't even get that right."

"Harry…" His hands tightened on Harry's arms again, this time to keep him from pulling away. "Don't…"

"Yeah, I know. 'Don't expect this will change anything,'" he said bitterly.

"No…" Draco pulled his chin up, then kissed him softly, which made him stiffen even more. "I meant…don't pull away. Not if you really want me. Even if I'm not a…girl."

"Are you barking? What do I care? I don't want you because of one or the other. I just…want _you_ , Draco.”

Draco hadn't been expecting that. He'd thought Potter had done this just to try to get him back. But… "Even if I'm…a guy?"

A soft despairing laugh, and then Harry really was pulling away. "Fuck, Draco. Didn't I just prove that?"

"I thought…"

"That I wanted the Draco part not so much as the girl part?"

"Something like that," Draco said with a sigh.

"Yeah, well…like I said. You're a git."

Draco knew it was his turn now to reach out. If he really wanted this, at least. Now that he’d let himself admit it, he’d missed Harry. He’d enjoyed that first kiss. It had been his own insecurities that had caused him to push Harry away. But if Harry still wanted him… “I guess I am.”

That surprised Harry. “What?”

“A git. I…wanted it. I was just…scared. Any chance we could try again?”

Obviously, Harry hadn’t expected that. “Really? I mean… Yeah. You really mean that?”

“I really mean that,” Draco said with a smile. And to prove it, he drew him in close, then kissed him softly. Harry’s passionate response was all he needed to know that everything would be just fine.  



End file.
